


i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

by amanderjean



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Excessive Fluff, High School, M/M, Soulmate AU, maybe the Cape Fear River will be our always, non-graphic depiction of a magical heart transplant, seriously this thing is six thousand words of them giving each other heart eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 12:59:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7316098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanderjean/pseuds/amanderjean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhett woke up one morning with a hole in his chest where his heart should have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Rhink Summer Ficathon 2k16! The prompt used was: Dashboard Confessional - Stolen. 
> 
> So I went a bit literal here with the song lyrics "you have stolen my heart." It kind of devolved from there. 
> 
> Thanks to my dearest darling friend pringlesaremydivision for a quick and enthusiastic beta; your praise and encouragement make my cheeks do the Rhett thing.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction based on imagined renderings of real people, and is not meant to imply any actual knowledge of the beliefs, behaviors, or values of any of the characters mentioned.

Rhett woke up one morning with a hole in his chest where his heart should have been. 

There was no gaping wound or anything, obviously, but he felt, very acutely, that his heart was no longer where it was supposed to be. Where it was supposed to be was in his chest, pumping blood through his veins, keeping oxygen and carbon dioxide and all the other things his organs needed moving swiftly and surely through his body. His blood was still moving; he could feel his gentle pulse at his temples, but there was no thump in his chest, nothing there to push and pull it along. 

(Rhett wasn’t sure how that worked, exactly; no one really did. Was it muscle memory that kept his limbs moving, his blood thrumming through him, keeping him alive until his heart was returned to him? Did the body go into some odd dormant state? Rhett’s analytical mind wanted to puzzle it out, poke and pull at it until it made sense, but he tried to hold that at bay — people had been waking up with their heart temporarily in someone else’s possession for as long as there had been people, right? And since the purpose of it was to find your soul’s mate, your heart’s true home, nobody really questioned it much. People had gone years, or, tragically, lifetimes with an empty cavity where their heart should be, so Rhett tried not to worry. Much.)

Rhett was a bit young to wake up without the reassuring  _ bah-bum _ he had grown used to (and everything seemed oddly quiet, now, without), but he certainly wasn’t the youngest person he had known. Years ago, his mother’s eight-year-old cousin had woken screaming one morning only for her heart to be found in the kitchen cabinet of a neighbor’s house. He was fifteen years her senior, but it wasn’t a scandal — sometimes true love takes a while to bloom, even if ten years was quite longer than average. Everyone just trusted that their heart would end up where it was meant to be. Rhett tried hard, now, to trust. 

He hoped it was someone close-by — now that it was upon him he didn’t really feel like drawing it out, waiting months or even years for the pull he was already feeling in his belly to guide him where he needed to be. Some people could wait, making plans around that small voice that told them they should go to college in another state, or take that job in Germany; others woke up, got in their cars, and covered every road until they were reunited with what had been taken. 

He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

And taken wasn’t precisely — wasn’t exactly the word for it. The taker didn’t  _ take _ ; no one had snuck into Rhett’s room in the middle of the night and carved the organ from his chest. But there wasn’t really any other way of looking at it — something had been stolen, whomever it was that had done the stealing, and it needed to be returned. 

Rhett sat up in bed, and his first impulse, the first thought he had, other than unformed fragments —  _ wow ok holy shit ok what now? _ — was to call Link. He had gone to Link with everything else for the past twelve years, so it made sense that on this day, this momentous day, he would call on his best friend. He could help Rhett look, ask around, see if any of the girls in town had found a small wooden box in their desk drawers or bathroom cabinets or refrigerators. 

Link would know what to do. 

So Rhett climbed out of bed, not feeling any different than any other day (and yet feeling completely, irrevocably, unfathomably different), and stood in in the center of the room. He should shower, right? Shave, too, maybe put on cologne? Put on nice clothes … what do you wear on the day you meet the keeper of your heart? (Meet them again? Or, perhaps, recognize them for who they truly are?) He glanced over at the mounds of clothing around the room, haphazardly rounded up into piles of “this was clean when I put it on the floor” and “I only wore this once so far” and “honestly don’t even try the sniff test you know this is nasty.” 

_ Call Link first _ , he thought. (Did he think it, or was it the twinge in his belly, the whisper in his ear? Did it matter?) He crossed the room to his nightstand, still clad only in boxers, and picked up the phone. The dial tone buzzed in his ear, tinny and far away, and he dialed automatically, not even thinking the numbers before his fingers pressed the buttons. 

The phone rang, again and again, and just before Rhett knew the answering machine would pick up (sixth ring), he heard a click and a husky, “Hullo?” 

“Link.” Rhett gasped. He was anxious, all of a sudden, breath coming quick, pulse pounding  (how, if there was nothing to push the rhythm faster?) but tried to keep his cool.

“Rhett?” Rhett could hear the rustling of sheets; the phone in Link’s room was just too far from the bed for the cord to really reach, so he was probably hanging half off of it, pulling himself from the haze of sleep. “What’s wrong?”

Rhett brought in a deep breath. His stomach fluttered wildly — he had sudden butterflies, which was weird, but he tried to take it in stride; he would probably feel weird until his heart was back in his chest. “It happened. Uh, my heart. My heart is gone.”

Rhett heard the distinct noises of someone falling out of bed. “What?” Link practically yelled. “Right now?” Rhett could hear more scrambling, and imagined Link on his bedroom floor, flailing, trying to extract himself from his blankets. He grinned, in spite of himself.

“Uh huh. I woke up and it’s just … gone.” Rhett cleared his throat, feeling oddly vulnerable. “It’s close by, I can feel it.” He hadn’t thought the words before he spoke them, but knew instantly that they were true. “I need to find it, man, I’ve only been awake for ten minutes and it’s already driving me nuts.” Again, the words weren’t planned, but Rhett was suddenly more aware of a feeling like a buzzing in his ear, or an itch he couldn’t scratch; maybe a slight headache that wasn’t responding to painkillers. “I thought … I thought maybe you could help me. Talk to more people, cover more ground?”

“Yeah, man, obviously, just let me get dressed.” Rhett sighed in relief, the knowledge that Link was coming settling his nerves a bit. Link would know how to find it.

“No rush, I’m not, you know. Dressed, either. And I want to shower and stuff …” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly.

“Wanna look sexy for the lucky lady, huh?” Rhett could practically hear the smirk in Link’s voice, and couldn’t help but laugh. “No worries, man, you get yourself gussied up, I’ll be there in a bit.” Rhett nodded, and swallowed hard.

“Thanks.”

“Of course, man. Be there soon.”

Rhett placed the phone gently back on the receiver, and stood still for a moment. The palms of his hands itched a bit, and he mindlessly rubbed them together. The sooner this was over, the better.

_____________

 

Rhett grinned as he watched Link hop up the porch steps. He stood up from his mother’s rocking chair and clasped Link’s hand in his, a casual handshake, a greeting between dudes; everything normal except for the growing warmth in his belly.

Link leaned back against the porch railing, his arms crossed in front of him. “So, like. Congratulations, man. How … how do you feel?” His eyes were wide and curious — Rhett was the first person their age (that they knew of, at least) to wake up with this missing piece. Normally, it happened closer twenty or twenty-one, twenty-five at the latest; you either woke up with an emptiness, a loss, or you woke up in sudden possession of something incredibly precious and powerful. So far, none of the teenagers in Buies Creek had woken up to either (again, as far as they knew — sometimes people were secretive or shy about it, though Rhett couldn’t see why; he wanted his heart back  _ now _ , whatever awkwardness came from searching). 

“I feel … really weird. Like, everything in my body feels totally normal, except I can just tell there’s something missing.” Rhett looked at his friend, perched casually on the railing. It was warm even for August, and Link looked flushed in his baggy shirt and long shorts. “Plus I have no heartbeat, which is really. Unsettling.” 

Link’s eyes went even wider at that. “Really?” 

Rhett nodded, pressing a hand over his left pectoral. “Nothing.” 

Link started forward, his hand outstretched — but then he paused. “Can I … can I feel it?” His tone was casual but Rhett knew his tells; the darting eyes, the foot scuffing the floor; Link didn’t want to cross a line. 

Rhett smirked and grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward. “C’mere.” He placed Link’s hand where his own had just been and held it there. He watched Link’s eyes grow wide and his eyebrows fly as far up his forehead as Rhett had ever seen. 

Link looked from Rhett’s face to his own hand and, without thinking, brought his other hand up next to it, as if he didn’t trust the first one. “Holy shit. That’s crazy.” 

Rhett shrugged. “I guess. It’s just … weird. And I just want it back.” 

Link cleared his throat and stepped away from his friend, shoving his hands deep in his pockets, nodding his head slowly. “So, uh. How do you wanna go about this?” 

Rhett shrugged, pursing his lips. “I dunno. I don’t know how it works, really.” 

Link frowned a bit. “Ok, well, what’re you feeling? Like, people always say they feel  _ led _ somewhere, right? Is that what it feels like?” 

Rhett closed his eyes and concentrated. It was hard to sort through all the normal body things he took for granted every day — a low pulse at his temples, an itch behind his right knee, a warm fondness for his best friend — and separate it from the new sensations, the new drive that told him  _ yes this way keep going. _ He took some steadying breaths, and poked around; he scrunched up his mouth in frustration. 

He opened his eyes to look directly into Link’s. He shook his head slightly. “Nothing. I mean, there’s this  _ voice  _ … and it says it’s close but not, you know. Where to go.” 

Link’s eyebrows shot up again. “You’re hearing voices?” 

Rhett shook his head quickly, “No, not like. Not an audible voice. Just … a feeling. All I keep getting is  _ close, close, don’t go too far _ but nothing concrete.” 

Link pressed his lips together and nodded. He looked past Rhett, through the window into the house, and seemed to be sorting something out in his mind. “Well, we could either, you know. Ask around, see if anyone’s found anything, or just drive around town and see if you feel pulled anywhere. If it’s close, it shouldn’t take too long.” 

Rhett tried, again, to listen to himself (to his heart? Wherever it was hiding?) and find a hint, a clue, but all he kept getting was a whisper in his ear;  _ almost, don’t stop now. _ He huffed a breath out. “I don’t know, man. What do you think we should do?”

Link’s eyes met Rhett’s again, and he smiled. “Do you trust me?” 

Before the words finished their path out of Link’s mouth, Rhett was nodding. “Obviously.” 

Link grinned, bright and shining. “Then follow me. I’ve gotta make some calls.” 

_____________  
  


“Ok, I honestly thought that would work.” Link sighed and flopped back onto the rug, rubbing his hands over his face. “I mean, starting with your ex-girlfriends wasn’t, like, the worst idea.” 

Rhett sighed and laid down onto the floor beside Link. “No, I mean, probably just the second worst idea, maybe only the third worst …” He giggled as Link smacked him across his chest, trying to hide his own smile. Rhett wasn’t sure why he wasn’t anxious right now; their attempts at calling Leslie and Amber and Sarah were fruitless, and they had asked them hours ago to get the word out to other girls in town, but so far there didn’t seem to be anyone in Buies Creek who had Rhett’s heart in her care. They’d been sitting and waiting, Link clearly working overtime trying to keep Rhett entertained and distracted; Rhett appreciated the effort, despite it being only marginally effective. 

Rhett sighed again. “I mean, you’d think I would’ve known, anyway. Right? When I dated them, don’t you think I would’ve had a clue that they’d wake up with my heart under their bed one day?”

Link shook his head before looking over at Rhett. “Nah, you know no one takes that stuff seriously. Y’all were just having fun.” He rolled into his side, one hand resting underneath his head. “Can you imagine if everyone actually dated for real at 16? Hung out with a girl and thought, ‘I should probably figure out if we’re compatible enough to spend the rest of our lives together.’ It would be a disaster.” He chuckled, clearly amused at the thought of it. 

Rhett sighed again. “Yeah, I know. I just mean — you’d think I’d know if I was walking around with my freaking  _ soulmate _ right around the corner all this time! Wouldn’t I want to be with her even before we knew it? Wouldn’t we be so compatible that we’d just … come together anyway?”

Link pressed his lips together and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s why this happens, you know? Maybe the universe knows people can’t always see what's right there. We’re too dumb to make these decisions on our own.” He smirked and looked over at Rhett. “Well, some of us are, anyway.”

Now Rhett was the one to send a smack in the direction of his friend, fighting off a smile. “Shut up, man, I wouldn’t have called you if I thought my intelligence was just gonna get insulted.” He rolled his eyes. “I thought you were here to help, not wound my ego.”

“Well, your ego could use a little wounding,” Link snarked as he pulled himself up to sitting. “If I’m supposed to be helping, let’s do it. Have any idea where to go from here?”

Rhett closed his eyes, and once again tried to focus on the knot in his stomach that might tell him what to do. He felt taut, like a wire, but couldn’t get a distinct idea of where the other end could be. Link was looking at him expectantly, and ‘I don’t know’ seemed pointless to say yet again. So he huffed out a breath and said, “Let’s try driving around or something. Maybe I’ll get a stronger feeling if we’re moving? Or at least an idea of where to go.” 

Link nodded determinately and stood up. He wiped his hands on his jeans and held one out to Rhett. “Better get going, then.”

Rhett nodded, and grasped Link’s hand in his. As he let Link pull him up to standing, his palm felt warm, and he smiled at the calm spreading through him. 

_ You’re going in the right direction. _

_____________  
  


Sitting in the passenger seat of Link’s truck, feeling the rumble of the engine and the cooling air rushing in through the window, Rhett felt more at peace with each passing minute. They’d been driving all around, through the back roads of Buies Creek and past the dorms at Campbell and to Lillington and back, and yet Rhett felt practically no change in the prodding at the back of his head —  _ don’t go too far, nearly there; nearly there _ .

He probably should have been disappointed, or anxious, and yet the longer the day dragged on the more he felt like he was doing what he was supposed to be doing. Though he couldn’t find a rational reason why messing around with Link all day would be the path he needed to take to find his heart again, he tried to place his trust in whatever it was that had wrenched it from him from the first place. There was still an itch he couldn’t scratch, but it wasn’t fierce or frantic like it had been when he first opened his eyes this morning. He would trust that whoever had stolen his heart was keeping it safe; there wasn’t anything else he could do, really.

He glanced at Link, whose attention was focused on the road in front of him. He felt a surge of affection well up in him — who else would drop everything on a Saturday morning to wander around aimlessly, trying to find his best friend’s soulmate? Rhett was so indescribably lucky.

Link looked over and caught Rhett watching him. He turned his eyes quickly back to the road, and the corner of his lip turned up as he quipped, “What? I got something on my face?” 

Rhett chuckled, not turning his gaze away. “Nah. Just — thanks for helping me out today. You’re the best, man.” He felt his cheeks round out as he tried to keep a sappy smile off of his face. “The best one of the best ones.” 

Link laughed softly and shook his head, amused. “Man, you’re sappy without your heart in your chest. Better get it back in there before you start crying or something.” He chanced a quick look over, and Rhett could see his wide smile belying how pleased he was, despite his teasing. Rhett breathed out a ghost of laughter, but didn’t argue. Maybe being so close to finding his heart’s mate was making him corny. 

He looked out the window and noticed they were driving down a familiar road, lined heavily with trees and devoid of houses. He furrowed his brows and squinted at Link. “Hey, are you driving to the river?” 

Link nodded, still facing the windshield. “Yeah, I thought …” he paused, pressing his lips together. “I thought, you know, it’s getting late and we haven’t really made any progress, so I thought we could use a break.” He glanced at Rhett, his eyes remaining off the road for probably a few moments too long. “You know, just. Hang out. Maybe if we stop thinking about it for a while you’ll get a better feeling later.” 

Rhett smiled. “Yeah, man. That sounds great.” He paused, the corner of his mouth stretching up. “Thanks.” 

Link shrugged, guiding the truck through the thickening trees and shrubs; they were close now to where they usually camped out on the riverbank. “O’ course.” 

After another minute, the trees closed in around them enough that Link parked. They climbed out silently, and made their way through the thicket in a comfortable quiet. Rhett could hear the rush of the moving water, the late afternoon birdsong, the cracks and snaps of creatures moving in the underbrush. They approached the river, its current rough and loud for this time of year. Rhett rubbed the sweat from the back of his neck and sped up; the air was always cooler at the water’s edge. 

They climbed over the rocks, moving deftly through years of practice, until they came to a spot beside some trees — there was a patch of earth between the rocks and the tree line, worn down flat from years of two young boys resting there after a day of swimming and adventuring. They sat down together, both of their backs against the trunk of the same towering cypress, resting not quite pressed against each other. For a few minutes they merely sat, not speaking, enjoying the familiarity of the space and the company. 

Rhett breathed in deeply and gazed out over the water and the trees on the opposite bank, and felt peaceful. He chuckled to himself, looking over when he heard Link inquire, “What’s so funny?”

Rhett shook his head slightly. “I dunno … it’s just really nice being here. I feel calmer than I have all day; maybe my heart is buried in the dirt here somewhere. Maybe the Cape Fear River is my soulmate.” 

Link smirked. “Well, you better start digging, then.” He rested his head back against the smooth tree trunk. “Honestly? You could do a lot worse.” 

Rhett barked out loud laugher at that, throwing his head back in surprise. “You’re right about that, brother.” His laughter trailed off as his eyes turned back to the coursing river. He felt an odd lump in his throat suddenly, and coughed a bit to clear it. “But …what if,” He took in a shaking breath, “what if I don’t find it?” He nearly whispered. He didn’t look at Link. 

Rhett felt a soft hand on his shoulder. “We will. I can’t say we’ll find it, you know, tomorrow, but we’ll find it. We’ll figure out who’s got it and y’all will bond and ride off into the sunset. I’ll stand on the porch, pressing my hankie against my eyes as you and your girl run off and live happily ever after.” 

Rhett gasped out a laugh, and turned his head slowly towards his friend. Link’s smile was as blazing as the sun that was starting to sink beneath the horizon, and his eyes were bright and teasing. His skin shone in the fading light, stray strands of hair falling across his forehead. Rhett suddenly wondered how it would feel to push that hair back behind Link’s ear. 

Link pulled his hand away from Rhett’s shoulder, but pressed his own up against it in its place. “Seriously, though. Don’t worry. I won’t let you go your whole life without your soulmate, man.” 

Rhett pushed his shoulder harder into Link’s and grinned, in spite of himself. “Thanks.” 

They were silent then, resting in each other’s presence and the sounds surrounding them. Then Link slapped his hands to his knees and said, “I’m gonna be honest, man. I don’t think we’re gonna get anywhere with this today. So why don’t we call it a day and pick it up again tomorrow? Maybe sleeping on it will give us some ideas.”

Rhett nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” He stood up, brushed himself off, and held his hand out to Link to help him stand. “Let’s go home.” Link gripped his hand and jumped a bit, landing on his feet, and Rhett grinned. The low hum in his ears had quieted almost to nothing while they sat by the river, but now he felt it again, strong as his pulse. 

_ Tomorrow. _

_____________

Rhett woke up the next morning with the ringing of a telephone in his ear. 

He struggled to wakefulness as it rang and rang, but before he could extricate himself from unconsciousness and blankets, it stopped. After a moment it started again, almost urgent in its ringing. Rhett finally rolled over, picked up the receiver and mumbled, “Hullo?”

“Rhett.”

Rhett bolted up in bed. “Link?” Link’s voice was all wrong — it was thin and trembling, and something about it made Rhett’s stomach twist. He could almost feel the phantom beat of his heart speed up. “What’s wrong?” 

“Um … I don’t know how … I think you need to come over,” Link said, slowly, the long pauses in between his words heavy with something Rhett couldn’t pinpoint. 

Rhett’s voice constricted in his throat. “What? Right now?” 

“Yeah. Like — as soon as you can. There’s … I need to show you something.” Rhett could tell Link was trying to hold himself together, but his voice was still  _ wrong _ and before he even thought about it he was swinging his legs over the side of the bed and pulling on the first pair of pants he picked up from the floor. 

He bent down awkwardly, trying to reach for a shirt without pulling the entire phone off the nightstand. “Yeah, of course, I’m on my way. I’m coming.” He slammed the phone down, pulled his shirt over his head, and ran out his bedroom door. 

He was so focused on Link, on getting to his best friend, that he paid no mind to the flexing of muscles and pull in his chest —  _ not long now. _

_____________

 

Link was waiting on the porch, wringing his hands, when Rhett pulled up. As he slammed the car door and ran up the walkway, he raked his eyes over his friend — disheveled hair, wrinkled clothes, mouth pulled tight in worry. He took the steps two at a time, stopping short in front of Link. Neither of them said anything as they stood together. 

Finally, Link cleared his throat. “Um, you should. You should come inside.” He rubbed at his shoulder with his opposite hand, eyes on the ground. 

Rhett nodded, and followed after Link as he opened the front door and led them into the house. Rhett felt a little hysterical — he didn’t know why Link was acting this way, could not imagine what he had to say that had him spooked like this, but somehow couldn’t bring himself to ask. His whole body felt off, pulsing and twisting within itself, as if every atom was re-aligning itself at someone else’s bidding.  

Without speaking, Link led them through the house, up the stairs to his room. Rhett, despite the seriousness in Link’s face and the urgency he felt, let out a strangled giggle; he was oddly giddy, feeling strangely like the time they snuck some cheap vodka from his parents’ liquor cabinet — clear liquor and cloudy eyes, world illuminated and narrowed. Link turned to look at him, squinting at his out of place outburst. 

As they approached Link’s bedroom, Rhett stopped suddenly a few feet from the door. He was on the cusp of something; his body knew what was going to happen next but his brain couldn’t catch up, and he was so unsettled by the sensations coursing through him —  _ keep going don’t stop now almost there  _ — and his inability to get a grasp on what was happening. Link, as if he felt Rhett stop moving behind him, also paused, and turned to look at him. 

They met each other’s eyes for a minute, and Rhett still couldn’t grab onto what he saw in Link’s expression; it slipped through his grasp like water through fingers, and he was, all at once, afraid. 

Link closed his eyes and sighed, breath shaky. He opened them again, creases lining forehead. He looked so guilty, but for what — Rhett didn’t know. “Come on.” Link’s voice was quiet, nearly a whisper. He walked into his bedroom.

Rhett put one foot forward, and then the other. His footsteps were muffled on the carpet; or maybe it was just the rushing of his pulse in his ears that made everything sound like it was underwater. He was being dragged now, by some force, into the room, and even if Link hadn’t stopped in front of his closet, that’s where Rhett would have gone; he wasn’t entirely sure he was in control of his own body anymore.

They stood in front of the closet for a moment, unmoving, avoiding each other’s eyes. Rhett saw something in Link’s face, out of the corner of his eye, and understood none of it. His mouth felt dry and his eyes felt wet. And then, eyes still on the ground, Link pulled open the door. 

Rhett knew without knowing to bring his eyes down to the floor. And there, resting on the rough carpet, was a small wooden box, only slightly larger than his fist, with a large bird of prey carved into the hinged top. 

Every cell in Rhett’s body surged; he sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of it. His chest ached, burned with the need to be filled; to be complete. He stared at the box, knowing he couldn’t touch it but wanting it, wanting it  _ now _ . 

“So … is it yours?” 

Rhett tore his eyes away from the box and brought them slowly up to the face of his best friend. The early morning sun was coming into the window at a strange angle, and in it Link was  _ glowing _ , he was effervescent and other-worldly in his beauty. The ache in Rhett’s chest grew ten-fold; he could only nod. 

Link brought his hands up to his face, covering his eyes. “God, Rhett. I’m sorry, I didn’t … what does this mean?” His voice was muffled through his hands, which were trembling. 

A harsh laugh tore itself from Rhett’s mouth. “You know what it means, Link. Please … ” Please what? He didn’t know what he was asking for, he just needed —  _ please _ .

Link let out a sob, eyes still obscured. His voice was so quiet, barely even a whisper, but Rhett heard every word. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t notice it yesterday, I found it this morning … I … I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“What?” Rhett was still lagging behind; his whole being knew that everything had changed, but his thoughts were still struggling to keep up. “Why would you be sorry? Link …” 

But Link interrupted him. “How could this have happened? How could it be me? It was supposed to be Amber or Leslie or one of the other  _ girls _ in town, it was supposed to be …” He finally looked up at Rhett, voice threatening to break. “How could this have happened?” His eyes were damp in the corners.

Rhett shrugged, shaking his head slightly. He could barely speak through the pressure in his chest and the buzzing in his ears. “It’s not unheard of. And no one would … no one will question it. They’ll understand.” He drew in another shaky breath. “Can you … do you think you could …” He trailed off, afraid of upsetting Link further but urgently needing to be reunited with his heart; he could feel it beating, in the air all around him. 

Link’s eyes widened. “I mean … I …” He dug his hands into his hair, pulling at the strands. “Rhett, this is  _ crazy _ ! You’re my best friend! We … can we do this?” He screwed his eyes shut, hands still in his hair. 

Rhett’s mouth curved up at one end, without his permission. “I think we  _ are _ doing this, Link.” He placed a hand on Link’s shoulder, tentatively. He felt his friend seize up, slightly, but pushed through. “Link, I need you to put my heart back. Please.”

Link jerked his head up, eyes wild. “Rhett. Rhett, if I … we’ll be bonded! That’s not something you can undo!” His left hand drifted up to rest on Rhett’s, still on his shoulder. “Do you really want that?”

Rhett held his gaze, and carefully placed his other hand on Link’s other shoulder. “Do you not want it?” 

Link didn’t answer. They merely stood, unmoving, eyes sealed together. Rhett saw a thousand emotions flash in Link’s expression, and tried to fight against the panic rising in him. He didn’t know if he could go his whole life with his heart in that box, sitting in Link’s closet; he also knew he wasn’t going to spend his life knowing that Link didn’t choose this, went into it unwillingly. He waited, every muscle in his body throbbing with restraint.

After a minute, an hour, a decade — Link swallowed thickly and looked down at the wooden box. He looked back at Rhett, a determination on his face that hadn’t been there before. Rhett removed his hands from Link’s shoulders as Link bent down, so slowly; he placed his hands around the box and lifted it from the ground. Rhett barely stopped himself from lurching toward it. He stood, stock still, hands curled into fists, as Link stood, achingly slow, the wooden box between his hands. He turned his body back towards Rhett, the box between them. There was barely space enough for it between their bodies. 

They stood another moment. Link looked back and forth between Rhett and the box that held his heart inside. He was shaking fiercely. “Ok, so. What … how do we even do this?” 

Rhett smirked, fighting the bile rising in his throat. “We should’ve read those pamphlets in health class more carefully.” 

Link let out a watery laugh. “Shut up, man. I’m so close to freaking out right now.” 

Rhett laughed softly. “I’m sorry, me too, me too. I don’t know, just … let’s start by opening it?” 

Link nodded, pressing his lips together. “Right. I’ll just … open it.” He took in a deep breath. He placed his hand on the lid, gently pressed at the opening, and, hands still trembling, lifted the lid. He sucked in a breath, his eyes shooting up to Rhett’s. “Holy shit. It’s really in here … holy shit.” 

Rhett clenched his fists even tighter. “Can you take it out?” 

Link looked on the verge of hysteria. “Ok, ok. I will. Just … give me a second. This is fucking weird, I can’t —- just give me a second.” He closed his eyes, breathing in through his nose and letting the air slowly out of his mouth. Every second felt like a year. Rhett’s body throbbed in time with the beating heart he still couldn’t see. 

Finally, though it was probably not even thirty seconds, Link wiped his left hand on his jeans before lifting it up into the box. Rhett knew the second he touched it — he felt a sharp jolt pulse through him; joy and lust and bone-deep terror at the feel of it. He pressed his lips closed so as to keep from crying out. Link grasped the heart firmly in his hand and cautiously brought it out of its box. 

Rhett gasped at the sight of it. It looked … well, it looked like a heart. Like any drawing in any textbook, except it was real; solid muscle beating rhythmically, cleanly severed aorta jutting from the top. Link crouched to place the wooden box on the floor; Rhett could hear it shut with a click. 

Neither of them could stop staring at it. The sight of it was jarring — how unnatural it looked in Link’s palm, moving in time with Rhett’s own pulse; how desperately he wanted to be reunited with it. He looked at his friend’s shocked face. “Link.” He brought his right hand to Link’s wrist — “Link, please.” 

Link’s eyes met his, wide and terrified. He nodded. “Ok but … how?” His question hung in the air, heavy in the tension of the room. 

Rhett didn’t break eye contact. “Just … push it in.” He didn’t know how it would work, only that it would. “Just push.” He grasped Link’s right hand in his left and squeezed, hard. “I trust you.” 

Link nodded, breathing fast and frightened. “Ok. I’m gonna … I’m gonna do it. Ok?” 

Rhett broke into a wide smile. “Ok.”

Link moved his hand forward, upwards, until the heart was resting gently into the center of Rhett’s chest. Rhett was on fire, his whole body twisting, bones breaking and moving aside to make room and veins opening up to receive the origin of their rivers of blood; he clenched his teeth and fought the urge to close his eyes against the pain of it.

Link pushed, and neither of them saw it enter — they saw only each other. 

Rhett gasped in a breath — it felt like the first breath he’d ever taken, born anew in this moment, or the first gulp of air after nearly drowning, his lungs filling and his veins rushing and his chest closing up with a sense of blissful finality. Link’s hands tightened around his, bearing his weight as he bent forward; he rested his head upon Link’s shoulder, shuddering breaths coming in and out; electricity was surging between them, hot and sparkling, lightning and thunder in the summertime. Link’s heart was beating in time with his, sure and strong and fit to burst; Rhett could feel them sync, feel their pulses weave together and pull apart and back together again with a jolt.

And then it was calm. Rhett kept his head down, pressed into the sharp bone of Link’s shoulder, and tried to regain his breath. His eyes were wet, and he could see a damp spot on Link’s shirt. His hands were fisted in Link’s shirt, and he could feel Link’s arms wrapped around him, holding tight. He felt his heart beating in his chest, and he let out a sob. He was whole again, pure and perfect, in his best friend’s arms.

A hot, wet drip onto his neck brought his eyes open. He pulled back, just enough to look at Link’s face. Tears were falling from his eyes, but his smile put the bright summer sunlight to shame. Rhett laughed wetly, half sobbing at the beauty of it. He placed a gentle hand upon Link’s cheek, and it burned hot where they touched. Link’s eyes closed at the contact, and he leaned into it. His breath was uneven; they both breathed like they’d run a mile. When Link’s eyes opened and met his again, Rhett didn’t consciously lean toward him; his body moved on its own accord. 

The gentle press of lips together felt like everything good; it felt like humid air and long grass, like cicadas singing and endless fields of corn, like dusk and summer; it felt like ice cream dripping down cones and smooth, tan skin and fireworks and sunlight cresting over the tree line of the Cape Fear River. Their lips met, and their hearts came home. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> The concept of Link pushing Rhett's heart back into his chest is shamelessly stolen from Once Upon A Time. I always felt like the ripping and returning of hearts was really intimate and vulnerable, and so I made it ... that. Possibly a little too intimate, sheesh. 
> 
> also ... could I .... possibly ... use more ellipses ... in ... dialogue ... for goodness' sake ... 
> 
> Thanks for reading, friends. I hope this brought you joy and warm fuzzies because all of you give them to me on the daily kthanksbye!


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